


Fever

by roguefaerie (samidha)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, H/C Meme, Hurt/Comfort, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Sick Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-31
Updated: 2011-01-31
Packaged: 2018-12-14 11:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11782044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samidha/pseuds/roguefaerie
Summary: The first time Dean is injured on a hunt after Sam is "resouled."





	Fever

_Jesus, God, no, no, no, no, God, no._

The scene plays over and over again in his mind. The monster rearing up on its hind legs, spines shooting out of it and catching Dean in the neck, hard, and he _drops_ , and oh, Jesus ( _broken neck he could have a broken neck he could be he could be dead_ ), Sam can’t do this, he can’t handle this, not now, not so soon. ( _Oh, God, Dean._ ) 

He knew they weren’t ready for the hunt, he knew he needed more time. Knew Dean had known it too, but they are both fully engaging in a game of _repress, repress, deny_ and _fight evil, it does a soul good_ , both a little giddy, a little hysterical, a little off their game. 

And Dean drops.

Sam aims the blowtorch while his stomach flip-flops inside of him and lights the motherfucking thing on fire, and it screams as it burns alive for what it has done here in the dark of night, and Sam would be relishing it if he could think past _oh, God, Dean, no_ but he can’t, and if he doesn’t get to Dean, if Dean doesn’t wake up when Sam gets to him he is going to be pulled under by the flood of emotions he has no hope of handling, and _oh, fucking God_ , in this moment it would be better to be dead.

The thing burns and Sam drops the blow-torch, sloppy and desperate as he flings himself in his brother’s direction and his shout of Dean’s name joins the screams of the thing burning alive and _please please please Dean please_.

Dean rolls over toward Sam and _he can move he can move oh thank fuck._

And then all Sam can think is that they are twenty miles from Bobby and safety and their second home and thank _fuck_ they hadn’t gone too far afield, Sam can get Dean home.

He gets his arms around Dean and pulls him to a stand and Dean can move and Sam should really stop thanking God because God has nothing to do with anything but it’s a reflex from Before, it’s a habit that won’t die and it’s _Dean_ , who can move and speak and help Sam get them back to the car and who bitches loudly that he is hot as hell and then cold as fuck and all of this means _Dean’s here Dean’s here Dean’s still here._

All Sam has to do is get him home.

He drives and the road swims in his vision and that’s when he realizes the harsh sounds he hears are coming from him because this is the first time, the first time he can feel anything in a year and a half and it’s all too sharp, it’s all in Technicolor and Sam can barely breathe.

Dean settles into quiet, not calling Sam out and Sam thinks _too quiet_ and _oh, God_. He looks over at Dean and finds him shaking, hard, eyes closed and he can’t concentrate on driving and he can hardly see and the rough, broken sounds are still filling the car and Dean should be making a crack at him, should be saying _anything_ and Sam thinks of high fevers and bathtubs and ice and suddenly he knows he has more to be worried about than Dean moving on his own.

He speeds so fast that he thinks he can feel the car rocking a little as they throttle down the miles of highway.

They fly down the road all the way back to Bobby’s and Sam throws himself from the car practically while it’s still moving, all sweaty palms all over Dean, all dread and terror and pain because it hurts to love this much again and Dean is shaking and burning up and Sam has to-- Sam has to fix this.

He doesn’t want to haul Dean bodily from the car but he knows he has to get his brother into the house and up the stairs and into the bathroom and--

And so he does, pulls Dean from the car and half carries him up the porch and slams his fist on Bobby’s door over and over until it opens and they both nearly topple into the house.

 _Fever_ , Sam says desperately. _God, Bobby, it’s bad_ , and it is because Dean isn’t talking anymore, just quaking in Sam’s grasp. _Can’t lose him, can’t, Bobby, please_ , and Bobby takes half of Dean’s weight even though Sam doesn’t really want him to, even though Sam is clinging for dear life to his brother and then Bobby shouts.

 _D’you wanna get him upstairs or have him end up on the floor, boy? LET GO._ and then Sam does, and they each take half the weight and carry him upstairs, sit him on the toilet and start the bath and wait, agonizing minutes that stretch like hours.

Bobby starts pulling Dean’s clothes off, and Sam helps push and pull Dean where necessary and then he realizes, _fuck_ , he hasn’t even gotten the spines out and who knows what the fuck they’re doing to his brother and how could he be so stupid, but he’s afraid to touch them, they go in deep and he gestures helplessly to Bobby who curses a blue streak and then focuses on the task and thank God for that too because-- because.

Dean’s blood is so red.

They lift him into the bath and Bobby mutters, _Callin’ Rufus ’bout those_ , picks up the spines from off of the sink and heads downstairs. 

And then they are alone.

Sam cups his hand and gets some water into it, gently brings it to Dean’s forehead and pushes back Dean’s sweaty hair. He whispers, hoarse, _You scared the shit out of me back there. Breathe, Dean, breathe_ and of course Dean does and Sam can almost smile because it’s that simple now, just him and Dean and the air between them and it’s the scariest night he’s had since he’s been back but Dean is here, Dean is here after a hundred years Below without him and Sam relishes this. It hurts to love but the love belongs to him, belongs to Dean.

And then it’s all spilling from Sam because Dean is here but he isn’t laughing, isn’t jeering at the way Sam is so fucking on edge that he can’t stop touching Dean, testing that he’s here and real because it’s been weeks and sometimes he forgets he’s really here, really back with **Dean** and it means the world. The world.

Sam pours the water over Dean in steady handfuls, runs his fingers through Dean’s hair and murmurs, _You’re okay, you’re okay, I got you, I got you out and I got you now, you’re stuck with me, oh, God, Dean, you’re here and I--love you. I feel it. I feel everything. God, Dean, I’m so--_ He puts everything behind it that he can, love and fear and hope and desperation. _I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry for--_

And Dean shudders once and opens his eyes. _Hey, hey. I know, Sammy. You got me_ , he says, still shivering hard and he lets Sam get an arm around him to cushion him as much as he can. _You got me. Just... Welcome-- Welcome home._

His stomach drops into his knees and it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever felt.


End file.
